


Potential

by Sounddrive



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sounddrive/pseuds/Sounddrive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet is a medical professor. One of his students tells him upsetting news. ONE-SHOT COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Potential

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: K
> 
> Warnings: None
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. Just the plot and the OC.

Ratchet stared at his star pupil with disbelief. "What do you mean you won't be coming back next semester?" the medical professor questioned.

The mech in front of him was a slender youngling. His gray armor was a bit dingy, and had claw-like digits that could scare the daylights out of sparklings. However, he had a kind demeanor to match with his prowess in Cybertronian medicine.

Finals had just been finished. The class had eagerly left for the upcoming break from the university; all except for the student that remained.

"Steel, what do you mean? Why aren't you coming back next semester?" Ratchet reiterated.

"My Sire's wishes, sir," Steel shuffled his pedes. He didn't look at Ratchet as he added, "He says that my education is all for naught since the scholarship pays for only the first semester."

"That is absurd," Ratchet huffed. The professor came around his desk to be in front of Steel. "You have one of the brightest processors I've ever seen in all my vorns teaching. It'd be a waste to _not_ use it. And the fact is that you come from a well to do family; he's greedy."

Steel is despondent as he looked up to his professor. "He also says I can't be a medic because there are many others that already applied. So-"

He flinched as Ratchet slammed his servo against the desk. "That mech is nothing but a bully to you," the orange and white took in a breath to calm himself. Ratchet looked up at Steel.

"Look at me boy." The youngling looked up. "Don't let that mech dictate what you can and can't do in this world. I know your parental units are separated now, but that doesn't mean your Carrier isn't willing to help you out."

Steel headed to the door. "I wish I knew and I wish I could," he whispered. Without looking back, the youngling left.

**O*O*O**

The next semester started accordingly. In the last period of the day, the class was surprised to see that Steel wasn't in his seat.

When questions were asked of his whereabouts, Ratchet said nothing.

It was halfway into the period where the class of fifty became stumped on a question.

"Come on now, you all know this," Ratchet exhaled, exasperated. "You just need to list all of the side effects of a Cortical Psychic Patch if _not_ properly unlinked from the two parties. You got most of them, all but one!" The professor lightly paced in front of the screen where the image of a Cortical Psychic Patch was projected. The image became distorted when his chassis got in front of the white canvas.

"You got 'frying of the neural net', 'compete loss of memory', and 'short term memory loss'. There's one more, but it's at the tip of your glossa," the mech uses his fingers to list them off. Ratchet didn't pay any mind as the door swung open. He didn't tolerate tardy students until after class.

"A-actually sir, you mean two." Ratchet stopped cold in his tracks. He kept his back to the student. There were several gasps and exclamations of awe.

"The first is of the merging of memories. It's the rare occurrence of when memory files of Patient One are accidentally implanted into Patient Two's processor . . . and vice versa," Steel panted as he caught his breath. His boot-like pedes clunked against the door. Ratchet turned around to see the youngling slightly double over in exhaustion.

"The-the last bit is that . . . phew," he exhaled, and he quickly sucked in another breath, "you'd get thrown into prison because it's downright illegal." Steel straightened up. One optic of his had been swollen shut.

An expression mixed with surprise and concern lit up a majority of the room's occupants.

"I see you defied your Sire for once," Ratchet said, keeping his voice even.

"Yup, but I'm here," Steel wheezed. "I got kicked out of the house in the end, but," he had a grin on his face-plates, "my Carrier was willing to help me-"

"You can tell me the whole story after class," Ratchet got close enough to the youngling to whisper to him.

"Now then," the red-orange and white mech said aloud, "open up your data-pads to page 500 and read from there to 515." Ratchet looked at Steel's bruised optic. "I need to get an ice pack for one of our own."

As soon as the professor stepped out of the room, cheers and a chorus of "welcome back!" was heard.


End file.
